


Carols

by tatterwitch



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-19
Updated: 2014-12-19
Packaged: 2018-03-02 03:43:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2798306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tatterwitch/pseuds/tatterwitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One of the few holiday prompts I received read one word: 'carols?' I took it from there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Carols

After being cooped up after the snowstorm, you were going stir-crazy.

You itched for activity, for something, anything to do. So, that morning when you woke up, you dressed in an old t-shirt of Dean's. The dark material was flecked with stains and had more than a few holes around the hem and sleeves. In a pair of ripped jeans and thick socks, you wandered into the kitchen and retrieved the cleaning supplies. After slapping your hair out of your face, you set to work with the radio playing Christmas carols in the background.

The floors went from dark grey with dust and grime to a clean expanse that had your socks slipping about. Dust had you sneezing as you wiped at the shelves and ceiling corners. All the while, you sang along with the music. After you'd worn out one rag, you climbed off of the chair you'd used to reach the ceilings.

You turned and promptly came face to face with Dean. With a gasp, you stumbled back. His hands reached out and caught at your elbows to steady you.

"Easy, Y/N!" A small smile made his lips curl at the corners.

"Dean, you know better than to be sneaking up on a hunter!" You snapped the rag at him, making dust motes fly up.

The older Winchester smiled again and casually leaned against the door-frame. "I wasn't sneaking. I was listening."

"I-Ah, what?" You stammered. Oh, God. What'd he heard? What had he seen?

_Please_ let him have missed your impromptu dance to Jingle Bell Rock. That grin said he hadn't, though. You felt warmth turn your pink cheeks red.

"I never knew you sang, Y/N." Dean ducked his head a little to try and catch your eye.

"That's 'cause I don't," You mumbled, dragging the chair back toward the kitchen.

Dean easily lifted the chair from your grasp and returned it beneath the edge of the table. You walked over to the sink and worked on rinsing out the rag. He strode over and folded his arms over his chest as he watched you. He was quiet for a minute.

"You've got a nice voice, Y/N."

The rag slipped a little in your hands before you returned it to the spray. "Thanks."

Dean's shoulder nudged your's. "I mean it."

You glanced up at the sincerity in his tone. His green eyes were crinkled at the corners, his lips quirked in that half-smile that made your belly flutter. With a blush, you wrung out the rag and turned.

"Well, ah, I'd better get back to cleaning, right?" You jogged the material in your hand.

Dean shifted. One of his hands touched your shoulder. "Sure, one thing first, though." His other hand came up and one finger curled beneath your chin. His lips brushed over your mouth chastely. He pulled back, smiling as he tucked one hand into his pocket. "Been wanting to do something like that for a while."

With that, Dean turned and strode back down the hallway like he hadn't just made your mind melt and belly churn with warmth. As the carols continued in the background, you reached up and touched your fingertips to your lips as you smiled.


End file.
